declares her unchanging regard. Verdi, who, when asked whom he considered the greatest singer in the world, wrote: "La première Patti; la seconde Patti; la troisième Patti; " and furthermore, on hearing her in his favourite opera, "Rigoletto," sent her a card bearing the words, "A mia unica e vera Gilda."
The theatre—II. The auditorium.
From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry.
Besides the many trophies of which I have written, Patti possesses others which she prizes even more highly, and first and foremost of these is the doll Henriette, all decked out in ribbons and laces, which was given to her when, as a prima donna of seven summers, she first warbled an aria in public. Well does she remember how, on the occasion of her singing before a great crowd in Niblo's Gardens, she chanced to espy a little schoolfellow among her hearers, and forgetful of her final cadenza, exclaimed, in her shrill childish tones: "Oh, Nelly, do just come right away; I've got a new doll I want to show you!" A red fan which Sonntag had loosed from her girdle and placed in the hands of her baby-rival, is lost beyond hope of recovery, to Adelina's infinite regret, but she still hoards a number of other toys and trinkets with which her parents and teachers delighted to reward the efforts of their "Wunderkind."
Another of Patti's early recollections is the first visit of Mario and Grisi to New York, where they had been feverishly awaited for many months long before their début was actually announced on the affiches. The child had saved all her pocket-money to buy a bunch of camellias as a gift to the queen of song, of whom her mother had told her such wonderful accounts, and when at length the day came, and Mario and Grisi, after having sung and conquered, were surrounded by friends and admirers in the green-room, Adelina, trembling with joy and apprehension, advanced with her posy, and laid it in the hands of the imposing lady, whilst whispering a few words of congratulation, which she had hoped would win her a smile of approbation. Grisi, weary with over-excitement, waved away her diminutive admirer, murmuring, "Not now, little girl, not now!" With quivering lip the child turned and fled, but Mario, who had been a witness of the scene, with infinite tact managed to soothe her wounded feelings, and promised to keep the pretty camellias for ever, as a souvenir of "little Lina."
Of her phenomenal success when she appeared as a prima donna of seven summers at Niblo's Gardens in New York, so many accounts have been written that it would be idle to repeat an oft-told tale. The scales, trills, and staccati which Patti now executes with such triumphant ease, were given by her even in those days with a brilliancy and effect which fairly electrified her hearers. In 1859, at the age of sixteen, she made her veritable opera début at the Academy of Music in New York. Two seasons later, "la petite fée sortant d'un oeuf enchanté" came to steal the hearts of all London with her charming rendering of Amina in "La Sonnambula." The habitués of Covent Garden had but a cold welcome to offer the unknown "Patti" when she came on to the stage; but at the close of the first act, "it seemed," declares an eye-witness, "as if the house were made